Well, today David was supposed to go back to rehab, and not sure which answer was right, but either there wasn’t a bed or the insurance company wants some more T’s crossed and i’s dotted before they approve paying for it.  I asked to speak to a social worker at about 2pm, but never saw one.  The nurse said there wasn’t a bed, but the Doctor who visited the room where he was moved from SCU blamed it on the insurance company, but at that point, it was too late to do anything, and he said he thought it would happen tomorrow morning.

My bet is on the insurance company.  Any roadblocks they can put in the way to wear you down – that’s their master plan.  And the repulsive republicans rant about death panels, as if they don’t already exist and profit is their only goal.

Anyway, tomorrow, he will be moved to the rehab floor, or I will become Shirley MacLaine again, and nobody wants to see that.  Well, maybe some people do, but. . .

David continues to be more upbeat that the world deserves, and tells me  at a certain point that I should leave and have a drink!  He did have PT and was a trooper and even sat up in the chair for 45 minutes, but while he is not in the rehab unit, he does’t get the full regimen of therapys.  So tomorrow morning, I get up early, call me Charity and think of my brother as Warren Beatty!!